


Heart of the Wild

by InTheShadows



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki Doesn't Pose As Odin In This One, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Shapeshifter Loki (Marvel), Thor isn't exactly - according to Loki here, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Werewolf Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 09:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheShadows/pseuds/InTheShadows
Summary: When Loki comes to Earth to recover after surviving his supposed death on Svartálfheim he doesn't expect much. He never expected that this would turn into one of the most peaceful times of his life. He never expected to find the wildness of Midgard still lingering, just out of sight. He never expected to find wolf kin in the middle of Manhattan. He's not complaining though, especially not about the latter.





	Heart of the Wild

**Author's Note:**

> a prompt fill from the frost-iron tumblr found [HERE](https://frost-iron.tumblr.com/post/173841791832/prompt-loki-who-has-been-hiding-out-on-earth)!

There’s something to be said about the wildness of Midgard. It’s not an old wildness, nothing like what he grew up with. Midgard is such a young Realm when compared to the other, longer lived Realms. But they are innovated. They change and they grow and they reach far beyond their limits. It is the most obvious in their technological advantages. Certainly a change from when they worshiped his - adopted - people as gods. 

But, if you know where to look, the old ways - old magic filled with a certain wildness that can never be tamed - still lingers. It weaves in and out of the modern world, untouched by its technology and its new creations. It lurks in the shadows, hidden, but never really gone. It is most satisfying to walk down the street and see the things that everyone else misses. The masses may have assigned magic and the like to fairy tales, but that only makes it easier to hide. 

There is a certain joy and a certain peace he finds in this Realm. It helps soothe all the rough edges of his soul. Humans are so short lived, but so chaotic in return. They breathe change. There is no stagnation here, to stifle and choke any who dare to think of anything less than ‘tradition’. And what else is Loki but the wind of change blowing through the world whether he is wanted or not? Not that he will ever tell Thor this. 

Not that he will be telling Thor anything. He is supposed to be dead after all. It’s hardly his fault that he survived when he never expected to. And Thor just left him there. What was he supposed to do? Present himself back to the AllFather to be locked up for eternity again? Hardly. As soon as he was strong enough, he made his way to Midgard. To his surprise it has ended up being one of the most peaceful periods of his life. He has no responsibility here, no expectations he must live up to, no duties to weigh him down. He is as free as he has ever been. 

Eventually he will have to plan for the Mad Titan, but that is still some time off. He has bought himself time, with the Nine thinking him dead. Likely celebrating as well in some cases. The element of surprise is his. For now he will rest and recover from, hmm, quite a number of things when one stops to think about it. 

But he does not want to so he pushes those thoughts aside as he continues his stroll through the park. It is a warm night, with the moon shining brightly down, no clouds to cover it. Technically speaking he is not supposed to be in the park after dark, but when has that ever stopped him? He can vanish in an instant if need be. The silence is peaceful. That is one thing, living in this city, it is never truly quiet. The city that never sleeps certainly lives up to its name. One has to seek out silence to have some. 

There is a certain irony settling in the city he tried to conquer. Poetic. It makes him smirk in delight, the thought of living right under the noses of the so called heroes. They served their purpose, yes, but he was not overly impressed with them. Or all except one he should say. Stark intrigued him, meeting him with nothing but words and tricks. If circumstances had been better he would have enjoyed battling with him as it should be done.  _ He _ would he a worthy opponent. 

Part of him wonders what it would be like to battle him again. To go up against the Avengers - against Stark - when he didn’t have quite so much riding on the line. He won’t, he enjoys his anomaly too much at the moment, but he imagines. He has even watched, a time or two, when they have come out to defend the city. They are much improved, although Stark remains the most interesting of all. 

But he does not want to think on that either. No point wasting time on things he can never have. For far too long he has done just that. All through his childhood to his majority to the failed coronation that set him on this path. He told Thor that satisfaction is not in his nature. The fool likely took it to mean that he is never satisfied. It would be just like him, to misunderstand him so completely. Satisfaction is not in his nature because he will never settle for what he has. He refuses to lower his standards simply because no one has ever met them. Asgard never came close. They always found him wanting in one way or another. He is not some stray mongrel to be appeased with mere scraps. He is a prince, royalty twice over, and one of the strongest sorcerers of the Nine. He  _ will not _ settle for anything less than he deserves. He will die trying before he plays second place again. 

It’s not a throne he seeks, like so many assume. Fools the lot of them. What use have he of a throne? His powers lay in something far more permanent than a head of state. He is a wanderer by nature, a traveler who refuses to be tied down to anyone. He let himself be leashed before and look what happened. No what he wants is to be someone’s equal - it use to be Thor’s. Deep down it still is. But these days he no longer recognizes his brother. Not because of his growth - a bit more steadier personality - but because of his growth away from Loki. He seems to have abandoned him along with everything else pre exile. If Thor has abandoned Loki then Loki will do the same. 

So it is another equal he seeks. Someone who will support him, who has the power and intelligence to keep up with him. A place to belong - to finally fit in without judgement. That is what he seeks. That is what his ultimate goal is. A kindred spirit, however unlikely that seems. Is there really anyone else who can match him? It is not arrogance that makes him ask, but experience. Who out there can fit him if even his own - adopted or otherwise - family cannot? And here he is again, thinking thoughts he has no wish to linger on. Honestly if he- 

A howl stops the thought. It is a howl of no mere dog. It is deep and lyrical, calling to something deep within him. A true grin flickers across his face. This is exactly what he meant by the wildness of Midgard. Another howl and Loki cannot help but answer it. Just because he is not in wolf form does not mean that he cannot sing. Their voices intertwine, filling the air with it. 

A bark, ‘Where are you?’

Loki howls in return, ‘Here I am.’

Before long there is a large tawny wolf headed straight for him. It is no ordinary wolf of course. For one thing you would never find one in Manhattan of all places. For another there is too much intelligence in their eyes. It brings him joy to know that there are still wolf kin on this Realm, however hidden they may be. 

Not that this particular one is hiding at all right now. They barely pause to check him over before launching themselves right at him. It is a good thing he is as strong as he is otherwise he would have been knocked over for sure. As it is he steadies himself as paws rest on his shoulders and a tongue attempts to work its way into his mouth. A - very - enthusiastic greeting to say the least. Loki lets him lick for a few more moments before pushing him away gently. 

That doesn’t deter them - still standing on their hind legs to be at eye level. They hang their tongue out, grinning. 

If Loki had to guess then he would wager they are male judging by their size. A shorter male yes, but still male in whatever form they take. Or rather, physically male in form. One should never guess gender based on sex alone. 

“Hello,” Loki greets, “having a nice night are you?” 

They yip. 

“Excellent.” He would hate to see a wolf kin unhappy. He has always had a soft spot for them. He reaches up and scratches behind their ear. “Where is the rest of your pack?” 

The wolf whines sadly, butting their head against Loki’s hand. 

No pack then. Something stirs in him at the thought. Wolves are social creatures by nature and it is the same with wolf kin. Not to have a pack to run and sing with must ache. “I see. Would you like to play?” The question is out before he can consider it. He doesn’t regret it though. Not with the way the wolf perks up at it. 

They yip again, wagging their tail for emphasis. 

Loki laughs. “Alright, but not here I think. Would it be alright with you if I were to take us someplace else a bit less populated?” 

They bark, ‘Yes. Play. Now’

Loki smiles both at the enthusiasm and the trust involved in the answer. It has been so long since he has been given this level of trust. “Hold on then,” he cautions and transports them to a forest of old. If he had the power he would have taken them off of Midgard altogether. As is he still recovering his reserves so he takes them to an ancient forest in the North. A place where old magic still thrives away from the rest of the world. 

The wolf startles, backing away from Loki and sniffing the air. It only takes a moment before they finish, barking. ‘Cool. Now play.’ 

Loki shifts in an instant, transforming into his own wolf shape. He barely has time to settle before he is knocked over by the other wolf in his enthusiasm. Loki should be annoyed, but it would appear that they are both a bit clumsy and overwhelmed with excitement. He wonders just how long it has been since they had company. Far too long, going by his reaction. 

They lick Loki’s face, barking again loudly, ‘Yes. Yes. Better. Play.’ 

Loki returns the greeting, licking and nipping. Before he knows it he is in the middle of a game of tag that stretches for miles and long into the night. It is far too easy to get caught up in the excitement. After all it has been far too long since he played like this as well. That is one thing they both have in common. It is a simple joy and one he did not realize he missed until he has it again. He may not have a pack now - may never have had one - but he has this. Here and now he has a companion to run and play with. 

By time they collapse near a stream both are exhausted, tongues hanging out as they pant and the night is almost over. The moon is low in the sky now, ready to disappear for another day. The other wolf curls up to Loki, as close as he can get, which is practically on top of him. Not that Loki minds. This is something else he missed. When was the last time someone touched him kindly? Far too long. It was his mother and the memory burns to think about. So he doesn’t, encouraging the closeness instead. When he closes his eyes, the other is already asleep. 

:::

Waking up is a pleasant sensation. Loki is relaxed and warm, with the slight soreness in his muscles that only comes from a good workout. Clearly it really has been too long since he has done this. The sun shines in his face and beside him his companion squirms in displeasure. Or, rather, on top of him because there is not much beside about it. There is a body stretched out on top of his back, obviously human again. 

He peeks one eye open to see just what they look like. All he can see from this angle is messy hair and a lean, muscular body. He turns more. 

“Stop moving,” they grumble. 

That voice - no. Simply of all the people on Midgard - in Manhattan alone - surely it can’t actually be- 

“Coffee,” Stark moans, leaning up so he can squint down at Loki, “Coffee?” 

He sounds so hopeful that Loki cannot help but laugh at that. Stark is utterly befuddled this morning, eyes blurry, hair messy, movement slow. 

Stark scowls at him, burying himself further into Loki’s fur. “Rude,” he complains, “If you can transport, you can summon me some coffee. You owe me,” he says, sleepily smug. 

Owe him? Loki snorts. 

The smugness grows. “I know everyone thinks I’m easy, but that doesn’t mean I sleep with just anyone before we have a meal - or a beverage.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner. 

Loki huffs, because really that was terrible, but concentrates. Within a moment a steaming hot cup of coffee appears, floating in front of Stark. 

Stark pounces on it like a dying man, draining it in three long glups. How he does not burn his mouth is a mystery. “So are you going to change back?” he asks, leaning back down into his fur, “Or are we going to pretend you aren’t who you obviously are? Because let me tell you, you have a  _ really _ obvious scent. Like I wasn’t even near shift the last time and it was still strong. Glad to smell that you are feeling better now.” 

Loki eyes him. Well he certainly talks as much as last time, but surely he couldn’t- 

“Oh don’t give me that,” Stark rolls his eyes, annoyed, “Do you honestly think I could have missed it? It was all over your entire scent. And it smelled far too much like your mind monkeys, only worse. I’d have had to been nose blind to miss it.” 

Surely he could have then. Loki makes no move to do anything, staying right where he is. 

Stark shrugs. “Fine with me. You are comfy as hell to lay on. But you are going to have to take me back eventually. I doubt you’d like the explanation I’d have to give otherwise.” He lays back down, closing his eyes and stretching. “Wow what a workout. Haven’t played like that in forever.” 

Curiosity gets the better of him and Loki shifts, careful to keep Stark on top of his chest. “Does your team refuse you company?” He finds it even odder, now that he knows his identity, that he has no pack. Surely the others would not turn him away, Thor, at the very least, would be thrilled to play. 

But Stark shakes his head. “They don’t know.” 

They don’t - of all the idiotic - “They live with a wolf kin and none have realized it yet?” he asks flatly, “How in the Realms do they function?” Just when he thought they could not be any less impressive. Simply because the majority of wolf lore on Middard is laughable at least to offensive at worse does not mean there are not signs. 

Stark barks a laugh, sounding exactly like the wolf he is. “Some days I have no idea. But there are certain stereotypes on werewolves here on Earth and I don’t fit any of them. Mostly because most are ridiculous and some are downright insulting. No one believes we exist anymore,” he smiles, all teeth, “Wolf kin huh? Like that a lot better than werewolf. I’m stealing it.” 

To hear his thoughts so echoed is entertaining to say the least. “That is no excuse,” he says and then moves on to the other, more pressing subject for him, “But surely you have some form of pack?”

“Why do you care?” Stark frowns down at him, “Shouldn’t you be glad or trying to use this as blackmail or something? Don’t tell me you fell for my charm Lokes?” He bats his eyelashes at him. 

Loki snorts, but still feels pained at the question, however fair it may be to Stark’s point of view. “You are wolf kin.” As if that explains everything, which it can’t. Not for Stark. “Wolf kin should not be alone. They-” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. 

Stark hums thoughtfully. “Is it because you can shift yourself or is it something else?” 

Loki growls in aggravation. This is not a conversation he wants to have. 

But Stark nods as if he has answered the question. “Right. Well if it makes you feel any better I do have people who know. It’s just we’re all so busy right now that there isn’t really any time to get together to play every month.” 

“And you don’t trust the team enough to tell them,” Loki finishes. 

Stark shrugs, but that is answer enough. He stretches again, sitting up so that he is straddling Loki’s thighs. “Oh that’s better,” he says when something cracks, “Wow, yeah.” He glances down speculatively, “So if you ever want to do this again let me know.” 

Loki raises an eyebrow at that. “You are not going to inform your team of my renewed living status?” Because surely Thor has told them that he is ‘dead’. 

“Have you anymore plans for world domination?” Stark asks instead. 

“Let me check my calendar,” Loki says dryly, “I’m just so busy these days it is hard to keep track of everything.” 

Stark laughs. “Alright smartass. I don’t see any reason to as long as you fill your date book with something else.” 

“Like you perhaps?” 

Stark laughs again. “Always sweetheart. What do you say? Maybe you’ll even win next time.” 

Loki pushes him off his chest in retaliation. 

“Hey!” Stark protests, but he sounds far too cheerful about it, “Just because you’re a sore loser doesn’t mean you have to be so grumpy about it.” 

“I am not a loser at all,” Loki says primly. 

“Uh-huh, sure thing sunshine. So? You know you want to,” he sings the last part. 

Loki does in fact want to. That it is Stark is not as much of a deterrent as it should be. But he will not tell him that. He sighs, “I suppose, although I am sure to regret this.” 

Stark gives him a blinding smile. “Of course you won’t - it’s me. Hey do you think I could get another cup of coffee before we go back?” 

Loki glares. “Do not push your luck Stark.” 

Stark just laughs, grinning brightly. 

Yes, the wildness of Midgard is certainly something to be appreciated. 


End file.
